


Wounded

by gotta_write_them_all (locky)



Category: Black Sails
Genre: F/M, It always was and will be a OT3, M/M, Miranda is never really gone from their lives and we all need to agree on that, Multi, Thomas is the softest, but I guess you already know this since you have seen the show, unhealthy amounts of both grief and self blame, very sad grown men crying, well at least the sadder one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-25 18:04:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16665622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/locky/pseuds/gotta_write_them_all
Summary: As Thomas & James try to restore their intimacy, a painful memory resurfaces in James' mind.





	Wounded

 

“The wound is the place where the Light enters you.” 

―  **Rumi**

 

***

The bedroom is illuminated by a lamp on a small wooden stool that they use as a bedside table. Outside late fall evening is about to bid good night. The plantation is silent, apart from the wind making the falling branches of a willow tree hit against the roof of the house with a light thud.

  
James lets out a low moan. Thomas’ on top of him, his palms firmly planted beside James’ frame on the bed. Thomas nuzzles his nose against his cheek, kisses him again, then slowly moves down to his neck and plants a wet kiss just under his jaw.

His hands go to James’ shirt and he continues to unbutton it, his mouth never quite leaving the other man’s throat.

James quivers under his touch.

The warm yellow glow dances on James’ now naked torso. His flesh feels hot under Thomas’ touch as if the light from lamp has not only illuminated his body but also somehow magically spilt inside his body setting it on fire.  
But Thomas knows well it has nothing to do with magic, it’s all James.

Just like a proof James lets out a sigh. Thomas continues to explore James’ body with new found determination.

He caresses James’ muscles under his rough fingers. He takes time.  
It’s something they haven’t done yet, taken time. Since James has returned most of their lovemaking has been rushed and done half-clothed. Privacy is not something there is an abundance of on the plantation. Thomas wants to touch every part of James tonight, wants to ravish him.

His fingers run down James’ ribcage, it’s much less prominent than it used to be when they made love in the privacy of his own home. The years spent in Nassau have taken its toll on James’ body.

He touches a spot, just below James’ ribcage where the flesh is pinker than elsewhere. The nub feels hard under his fingers.  
Thomas kisses it and drags his tongue along the ravine that the healed flesh has created.

James goes rigid.

 

_The smell of alcohol. It burns both, his nostrils and his flesh. He hisses._

_"Keep still. You are dripping blood all over my floor", she says as she continues to disinfect his wound._

 

Thomas stills, his eyes immediately seeking out James’ for any evidence of distress.

"Did I hurt you?"

 

_It stings. He hisses again._

_She smiles at him one of those smiles. She enjoys this, having the upper hand._

 

James lets out a sob.

  
He can't look at Thomas so he looks at the ceiling instead.  
Thomas sits up and disengages himself from James, knees on the bed beside him.

"Please talk to me".

 

_"I'm enraged"_

 

James doesn’t move. His eyes are fixed at the wooden ceiling. His breathing, hardly audible, matches the thud from the willow tree.

 

_“There is no life here. There is no love here.”_

_“What are you talking about? What do you think I’m out there fighting for if not to make all those things possible here?”_

 

Thomas' hand seeks out James’ against the bedsheets and he brushes his fingers over his knuckles ever so lightly, just a reminder that he’s there.

James remains silent for a while and Thomas lets him.

When he speaks, his voice heavy with remorse, he’s still unable to look at Thomas.

"She should be here with us."

 

Thomas takes his hand in his and lies down next to him, hugging James’ frame close to himself.

"I miss her terribly too", he whispers against James’ wet cheek.

They lie there unmoving before Thomas speaks again.

"It's not your fault", Thomas says and means it.

James sobs silently.

"If she were here she'd agree with me."

Thomas continues to draw circles on the back of James’ hand he’s holding. Featherlight touches.

James knows he’s right.

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all kids. This just happened. If you sobbed, please drop me a comment. If you didn't, still drop me a comment. (Since English is my *counts on fingers* third language, I'm aware that this has good chances of sucking so every lil comment and nudge in the direction of improvement re: writing is welcome.


End file.
